Mending the Heartache
by Orokid
Summary: After Voldemort's defeat and the death of their friends, Harry and Hermione leave Hogwarts, searching for something maybe even someone they can call home.
1. I'm Moving On

_Disclaimer: Me own nothing. Me very depressed now. sob That's why this fic is sad-ish… And just to say again, I do not own these songs or characters. No ownership here. I can't even finish my first novel. Sobs again in corner I don't own neither Harry Potter or the song "I'm Moving On" by Rascal Flatts._

MENDING THE HEARTACHE

_CHAPTER ONE_

I'M MOVING ON

Harry slammed the trunk of his only piece of luggage, gazing at the room around him with a content sign. Why? It was over. The war, Voldemort, the Dursleys… It was over. Finally over.

_I've dealt with my ghosts and I've faced all my demons_

_Finally content with a past I regret_

His brain reminded him of what had happened not too long ago, before his final bereavement for his godfather and his lost friends. It let him recall every piece of the memory, and his heart stung as every cold portion bit into his soul. He remembered watching Ron Weasley, his best friend since he had entered the wizarding world, die right before him, seeing Hermione fall to the floor as a disarming spell hit her and knocked her unconscious…

He shook his head. His grieving wasn't done, but at least only one of his friends hadn't let him alone permanently. Yes, every part of the war hadn't been his fault, but he felt like it had been. He had been trapped inside the burning heartache inside his chest and mind called his past long enough. No more would they see Harry Potter grieve for what could not be saved.

The Boy-Who-Lived decided long ago, from the moment that the death blow had been administered to his arch nemesis, that he would continue with his life and leave his memories behind, good and bad.

_I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness_

_For once I'm at peace with myself_

_I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long_

_I'm movin' on_

He swung his bag over his shoulder, moving down into the Gryffindor common-room where everyone in the castle had gone to, only to celebrate the victory over the vanquished party. No one minded him, and he thanked God that no one had. He didn't need lengthy good-byes or words at all. He just needed to go.

His eyes darted from face to face, and he recognized most of the students immediately from his seven year term at Hogwarts, since he had evidently met them all at least once this whole time. None of them wanted to hurt him, but he still had to go.

No one in this community would ever see Harry for actually Harry. All they would see is the Boy-Who-Lived or the Boy-Who-Defeated-You-Know-Who.

_I've lived in this place and I know all the faces_

_Each one is different but they're always the same_

_They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it_

_They'll never allow me to change_

As he moved toward the gate of what he had considered home for all of his adolescence, he could only chuckle to himself at the thought that this place couldn't even be considered as home again.

He had to move on with his life. He had to leave.

_But I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong_

_I'm movin' on_

Harry stopped in his tracks as he looked at her, dreading the look on her face. Her curly cinnamon colored hair was obscuring his view of her face which he was sure was tear-stained. He had barely noticed the small bag beside her feet, packed full with books and some clothes. "'Mione?" he whispered as he got close to her, pulling the wheeling bag behind him.

"Were you just going to leave without saying good-bye?" she asked him straightly, nearly hiding the small hiccup in her voice. He nearly broke at the sound.

His thumb brushed away the streams falling from her eyes. "Honestly?" he questioned her, neither smiling nor frowning. She nodded, leaning into his hand slightly. "Yes." Her surprised eyes only made his hand fall back to his sides in his heart-wrenching pain. "I was going to try."

_I'm movin' on_

_At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me_

"Not without me", she told him firmly, staring at him with a tense passion for staying by his side. "I'm going with you. I don't care what you say. I'm coming."

He chuckled softly, wiping her other cheek dry. "I'm not going to stop you", he whispered into her ear. Truly, he didn't want to leave not telling his only closest friend left over from the battle. If she wished to come with him, he knew she would and he wouldn't try to stop her. "I won't ever try to. It's no use. You won't listen to me."

She smiled softly at him, a small laugh on her ruby lips, bringing back the old happy memories of their friendships and their lost friends. He could see what Ron would do if he knew that his childhood crush was coming with him, the man who secretly loved her and was also her best friend. His emerald eyes twinkled as she bent down to pick up her belongings, walking beside him as they exited the grounds.

But he had to stop thinking about those he had seen die and continue on, to forget or remember those who are gone on the day that would most likely be commemorated as Harry Potter day.

_And I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone_

_There comes a time in everyone's life_

_When all you can see are the years passing by_

_And I have made up my mind that those days are gone_

He threw their belongings into the 'ninety-seven Chevy truck's bed, driving into a nearby muggle town to sell most of his prized muggle things to the pawn shop dealers. Hermione had no objection to his actions, and he assumed that it had been because she thought that it had been his way of getting the pain to go away. He kept what he couldn't sell and moved down the gravel-filled road to a gas-station where he used all the money he had received to pay for gas.

_I sold what I could and packed what I couldn't_

_Stopped to fill up on my way out of town_

His eyes wondered to her bushy head in the passenger side of his truck, his heart beating quickly. He wondered what living a life without being a legend would feel like, especially with her by his side, what it'd be like to be unknown in the vast world of muggles.

Still, he'd have to find the courage to actually ask her out on a date first.

His eyes darkened slightly as he thought out the word courage. He hated the word. It was supposed to be what he was known for, and he hated being the most commonly known man in Europe and most likely the entire wizarding world. He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find the courage to forgive himself for the murders he didn't commit.

Harry felt the gas pump jump in his hand, signaling to him that the gas had been done pouring fuel into the tank.

_I've loved like I should but lived that I shouldn't_

_I had to lose everything to find out_

_Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road_

_I'm movin' on_

He opened the driver's door, plopping down next to his best friend. "Ready to go, Hermione?" he asked softly as he over-turned the engine. She nodded mutely, and his emerald orbs searched her for the problem. He immediately noticed that she had been crying again, and he instantly used his thumbs to wipe her tears away. "Are you alright, 'Mione?"

Harry soon felt her arms around him, tears beginning to soak his midnight blue t-shirt. He didn't know if she had truly wanted to go now or if she went to make sure that he wouldn't die as soon as he would place a toe on unknown territory, but she had never gone back on a decision.

She probably didn't want to be reminded of the memories either, for all he knew.

"Harry!" she sobbed into his shirt, hands in fists as she clenched them painfully together into the fabric of his top. "I… I… I…I…"

"It's alright", he cooed as he held her to him. "It's alright now, 'Mione. You don't have to tell me anything." His firm hands gently stroked the top of her mane of bushy hair. "It's okay. Let's go. It's better." He kissed the top of her head unconsciously as he held her to him tightly in his grasp. "We're going to move on from this. We are going to be strong." Even as the words exited his mouth, he felt the tears in his eyes. "Ron wouldn't want us to be like this."

_I'm movin' on_

_I'm movin' on_


	2. There Is

_orokid/disclaimer: I don't own squat, but what's new really? Other than I don't own Harry Potter, and the song "There Is", by Boxcar Racer. Okay, this had taken me a while to figure out because I've been kinda busy, plus I had no idea which song to use. After listening to my sister's collection of music, I seem to have found the perfect song. (Truthfully, it had taken me longer to know which song to use than to write the fic.) And, once again, in case you missed this, I don't own anything. No song, no characters. Nothing._

**Notes-**

_Lyrics_

**Flashbacks**

Normal

**Chapter Two- There Is**

Harry gazed helplessly at the young woman who sat next to him, her eyes dull and watery. Ron's death had hit her extremely hard, more than he had expected it to, really. He wondered if this was how he was when Sirius had died. Their whole sixth year was of him mourning over his lost father-figure, and his best friends consoling him the best that they could. One time, he had taken his depression to a whole other level.

In his sixth year, he had tried to overdose on aspirin, failing thankfully with Hermione's help. She had used her extensive knowledge to flush out all of the toxins in his body and brought him to the infirmary. He had no clue how to thank her for saving him that day, nor did he think that she wanted any praise. The only praise he could offer her at that time was trying to be happy, for her sake as well as his, and to silently smile as she made his life all the better by… just being Hermione.

The emerald eyed man slowly turned off the lonely highway, onto the side where some few people would rest until a tow-truck would come. As his eyes moved to his closest friend, his sad green orbs never missed how she sighed heavily, almost unable to notice that the truck had stopped it's long drive. He wanted nothing to do other than take her into his arms and hold her until the hurting stopped, until she cried out her worth of past memories that would never be continued with the third member of their trio.

_This vacation's useless  
These white pills aren't kind  
I've given a lot of thought on this 13-hour drive_

Harry Potter scooted over to her seat, carefully placing his arms around her slim body in hopes that it would help both of them grieve. Doing so had made him remember the night Viktor Krum had broken up with her, the night he found her sitting by the lake with barely a soft glow left within her usually vibrant cinnamon eyes. He had held her in his arms in a loving embrace then too, unsure of what else she needed other than the only love he knew she would except from him.

But the other times this reminded him of was the times that made this forlorn, over-popular wizard love the woman she had become.

The day he had gotten his truck, for example.

The feeling he had received that summer day, when he had driven up to the Weasley's front door with a grin as large as the Grand Canyon, seeing her face light up so much by just seeing him in the front seat of something that didn't have lights twisting to different colors on the top of it, was something no quidditch game could give him. The two of them had stayed up until almost midnight, which was when Mrs. Weasley had gone outside to get them, chatting about how the Dursley's had bought Dudley two cars, one he despised so they had given it to him, and Harry driving school earlier that summer as long as Harry had promised not to come back.

Which, of course, he wasn't planning to.

_I miss the grinding concrete where we sat past 8 or 9  
And slowly finished laughing in the glow of our headlights_

She held onto him, burying her face into his warm, over-sized t-shirt, forcefully holding back her tears Harry noted. It seemed like so much had happened since then. Too much was gone and he was unable to get it back. He couldn't go back and enjoy his final years at Hogwarts like everyone else. He was unable to go back and stop Ron from dying in his arms. The messy haired eighteen year-old had reached a conclusion after living his life as long as he did:

Time was a devil, he was.

_I've given a lot of thought to the nights we use to have  
The days have come and gone  
Our lives went by so fast_

"It's alright, 'Mione", he cooed softly into her ear, holding her, if possible, even closer. "That's a lie", he corrected himself dully, "Nothing's alright. Nothing will be. Not right now." His hands softly patted her back and stroked her hair caringly.

He felt her body shudder against him. She was letting go of the withheld waterworks, he noted with an extremely small smile, a little happy that she was allowing him to condole her once again this trip. No matter how many times she needed it, he thought to himself, he would offer her all that he had to give her.

Having her this close to him made him remember one actual day he had decided to tell her how he had felt for her, but everything had been misunderstood. It seemed to Harry as if his whole existence was misunderstood at the time, but he had realized back then that she was the only person to read between the lines, to understand his inapt environment and incomprehensible personalities.

Somehow, she hadn't that night.

"'**Mione", he had whispered softly, finding it hard to breathe in her presence at the moment. He could only assume that it was because of all the effort he had placed in getting up the stairs to the girl's dormitories, not the fact that she had looked absolutely stunning in an old sleep-shirt an pajama pants. "I came to tell you something. It's about… Well, I love you, Hermione", he told her lamely, unable to come up with the right words to tell her how much she meant to him, that he'd kill himself if she said so.**

**But, slowly, he had begun to lose confidence in his admittance as she stared at him as if he had grown horns or something. Did his feelings made her that uneasy?**

"**As a friend should", he added quickly, his face a shade redder than he wished it was. "I just… wanted you to know that."**

**Quickly, he tried to make his way out of her room, only to feel her soft hand touch his skin, goose bumps growing at her beloved touch. "I love you too, Harry", she told him with a lop-sided smile, her eyes glinting with different emotions as he stared into them, him unable to comprehend what was inside.**

_I faintly remember breathing on your bedroom floor  
Where I laid and told you, but you sweared you loved me more_

Now, he only wished that he could go back to those days, to see her smile at him again like she used to. He didn't know why, but that simple gesture of upturned lips had always placed him on some new plateau, one he had never experienced until the day he had met her on the train-ride to Hogwarts so long ago. All he wanted to do for her right now was give her the same security she had always given him over the years.

_Do you care if I don't know what to say_

He held her for a moment longer, just before turning back to the wheel and continuing their hazardous trek that seemed to last forever and getting off the next off-ramp, pulling into a near-by hotel. It was a basic Best Western, but at least it was going to be their home for one night. He got one room, deciding it best since both needed the comfort of the other nearby, whether they would admit it or not.

As he easily pulled their bags into the room, he caught the scent of her not far behind, then the feeling of her hand holding his lower arm. He wondered how well she would sleep in this room, without the comforts of home or school dormitories. Would she cry herself to sleep, mourning their friend's death still? Would she fall asleep but dream of the day she watched her best friend die in their hands? Stranger thoughts invaded his worried mind:

Would she think of him while she slept in her dreams?

He shook his head. No. He couldn't think about that. Yeah, he did love her, more than a friend should really, more than the amount of crush Ron ever admitted to having on her. He had to be her friend, not want to snog her every moment of the day. He had to be her support on this trip of self healing, nothing more, and nothing less.

But God, he wanted to be more, to kiss her deeply and to make her tears go away.

_Will you sleep tonight, will you think of me  
Will I shake this off pretend its all okay_

In the back of his mind, almost unnoticed with the current confused jumble of thoughts running through, was a hope that maybe, just maybe, this girl whom he loved was having the same trouble as him, for him.

Little did he know that she was.

_That there someone out there who feels just like me  
There is_

Her tears of depression seemed to sway underneath the command of her beating heart, which quickened every time his pained emerald eyes would look upon her with such sadness, one she knew wasn't just from losing a good, close friend. There was hope within her soul, but she wouldn't make the first move and start kissing him after such an ordeal.

She remembered the notes he had wrote he throughout their time at the castle, enjoying the remnants of their childhood innocence still left over by the horrid actions of Voldemort. She had kept most of them, almost afraid that if she had thrown them out, he would leave with them. Hermione, the bookworm, the know-it-all, had only one secret that she had kept from her friends, both actually, and still intended to keep it a secret as long as she could, but…

Although she had always been one to disagree with writing notes during class, she had, truthfully enough, been meaning to write one to him since their fourth year, to explain to him why she refused to give up on him and why she wanted nothing more than for him to be happy with his choices- one especially by the name of Cho Chang (which she still disagreed with).

_Those notes you wrote me  
I've kept them all  
I've given a lot of thought of how to write you back this fall_

All the letters she had written to him beforehand, way before the bell of the towers chimed to tell all the students if they had been late or not. This bushy, brown haired young woman had written over a dozen of letters explaining to him how she had felt, and all of those letters were hidden in her trunk. She was planning to give them all to him eventually- eventually meaning sometime in the far off future, when she could forget how her heart sped every second he was near and laugh about it all with him sometime.

Some, you could peel off a second coating of Fred and George's high selling invisible ink, used only to erase what the witch or wizard desires. She had used the whole bottle almost, and refused to buy anymore after she had "misplaced" her favorite quill in a vat of the liquid.

_With every single letter in every single word  
There will be a hidden message about a boy that loves a girl_

"Harry, would you mind if I slept with you?" she asked as innocently as she could, her tone soft and filled with the sorrow she felt to her core. His eyes, which had been looking into the mirror at his tired self wryly, averted to her, obviously surprised by her seemingly ridiculous request.

"W-What?" he choked out, blinking madly to make sure this wasn't some daydream he was having, that he wouldn't wake up in Saint Mungo's the moment he had awoken.  
_Do you care if I don't know what to say_

"I just… need someone", she said, playing up the grieving friend routine to the best of her ability- which, it seemed, to be working exceptionally well as her blushing-like-mad best friend nodded, gulping for some unknown reason to her. Her heart appeared to be more than giddy of the news, although you wouldn't have known if you had looked straight at her grief worn face and body.

"Promise to sleep, though?" he asked her, worried over her health. He had known for days, ever since the final battle was leading up to the day where the prophecy would come true, that she hadn't been sleeping, that the pressure was getting to her. None of them truly had. She nodded solemnly, finally realizing just how tired she was as she yawned deeply.

Neither actually had changed into clothing that would best suit sleeping that night. The eighteen year-old quidditch player had shed his shirt, which had made Hermione wish to confess what she had been hiding for years right then and there. Her mind had wandered all on its own to what would happen if she did, the positive side stealing her visual aspect at the moment.

_Will you sleep tonight, will you think of me  
Will I shake this off, pretend it's all okay  
That there's someone out there who feels just like me  
There is_

He heard his heart pound loudly inside his chest as he watched with hungry eyes as his best friend and, unknowingly to her, the love of his life turn her back to him, pretending to not know that he was watching her intently as she removed her t-shirt. Harry gulped once again, his eyes slowly drinking in the sight of her in just a bra and jeans. How would he get through the night with her like that? Especially lying next to him like she wanted to be? Would he actually sleep without having every single thought a man could have in the situation he would be in? Without waking her up in the black of night and confess everything he had done so well to hide?

He shook his head, turning around, hoping that doing so would pull his mind from the gutter. "Its okay, Harry", she said, barely above the volume of a whisper. "You can… look." He turned around slowly, loudly gulping in his fear that his body would find her sight more than enough to handle.

_Do you care if I don't know what to say?  
Will you sleep tonight, will you think of me  
Will I shake this off, pretend it's all okay   
That there's someone out there who feels just like me_

Even he could tell, right through the lines of sleep deprivation and sorrow etched into her face, that she was probably as red as he was, if not more. "We are… best friends", he told her loudly, as if agreeing- although he was more forcefully telling himself the news. His voice was about an octave higher than usual, which made him instinctively cough and clear his throat, trying to hide the truth. "Right?"

_Do you care if I don't know what to say?  
Will you sleep tonight, will you think of me  
Will I shake this off, pretend it's all okay  
That there's someone out there who feels just like me  
There is_

"Yeah", she responded, laughing a soft chuckle nervously, looking at the one bed she herself had asked to share with him for the night. "This shouldn't feel… abnormal to us." The dark haired man cleared his throat once again, just before jumping underneath the covers, his flashing emerald eyes staring at her almost naked form, expecting something to happen. Neither of them knew what, but something was supposed to happen right then. And it felt as though they were denying fate as they did nothing.

Slowly, Hermione joined him, lying as far away from him as she could on her side of the bunk- which, to her joy and disgust, wasn't very far. Her arm stretched out to the light beside the bed which was on, turning it off with ease.

Ten minutes passed the two of them, their breathing steady and normal although both weren't able to fall asleep as easily as they thought it would be.

"Goodnight, love", Harry whispered into the darkness of the room, unknowing that the girl he had meant it towards had heard him utter the words. For what seemed like hours, she had taken into pondering what he had meant by that one little word. Maybe a friend type of love? Or was it more? After thinking all she could about it, and still getting nowhere, she drifted off to sleep, body's weariness finally grasping her into her calm dreams, where the two had no problem to love each other, where she could finally be honest to him.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

orokid: Okay, so that took me a while to think about and write at the same time. I didn't know what song to use on this chapter, but I knew it had to be happy at some point. Maybe you guys can request some songs for future chapters? I know what I'm using for the next chapter (I think), but I could always use the suggestions.

I promise to think really hard about the next chapter!

BTW, if you think that the ending was kinda fast, I was just trying to end it so I could go back on Gaia-online. Sorry guys, but I am addicted to it. I need a twelve-step program right now, I'm so addicted to it.


	3. Love

_orokid/disclaimer: Practically, I still have no rights to the Harry Potter empire (dammit… grrr…) and I still don't own any other rights to make me even feel happier about not having it. I've been busy, and I think that… lost my train of thought. Nor do I own this song, which is owned my Musiq. I don't own anything on this fanfic except the plot, and that's just barely, so don't asking me for anything._

_Warnings: It's kind of a little weird. There's more flashbacks than before (so more than one) and there's talking to a dead friend (you know who I mean). I was getting a little bored and hyper at the same time, so this is a little better… than my other little hobbies. Laughs evilly. Gets smacked by all of my friends at once and laughter fades out into the distance as I fly away._

_lyrics_

normal

**flashbacks**

**Chapter Three**

_Love_

Harry watched her as she slept, him unable to fall into his own wet dreams that always consisted of her, this girl that laid next to him in a bra and jeans. He could have laughed at himself as he laid there, two inches from being too close to her, if there wasn't the possibility that she could awake. The last thing that he wanted to do was wake his sleeping angel.

His? Since when? Yeah, he loved her. More than he should, really. So much that he couldn't say a thing to the woman he called his best friend.

_Love_

_So many things I've got to tell you_

_But I'm afraid I don't know how_

He knew that, friends aside, she would look at him differently. There was the chance that it would ruin their long friendship. And there was a chance that she would maybe leave him alone.

And that's what he would be- a man traveling in the jungles of lovelorn worlds alone.

_Cause there's a possibility_

_You'll look at me differently_

His fingers inched forward, him tempted to move her bangs from her perfect, at-ease face. Slowly, his hands snapped back to his sides as a smile cascaded across his face, his scar flashing in the dim moonlight. He remembered the beginning.

The day he first saw her, spoke her name, he knew that things were going to change. Back then, he thought that the change had already occurred after the mountain troll incident. He thought that since he had a real friend, one that wouldn't jump the gun at every time he became more world renowned, he would be at least a little bit normal- something that he's never had since he was a year old.

_Love_

_Ever since the first moment I spoke your name_

_From then on I knew_

_That by you being in my life_

_Things were destined to change cause_

Memories flashed through his mind- Ron and his childish way of saying that he cared for her, when she comforted him after Sirius's untimely death, and… Cho. Cho had said that she had fallen in love with him, that she was his girl forever and for always.

She had been a liar. She only wanted him for his looks (although he never knew he had any), money, and fame. It had always been the same with every girl who said that she "loved" him, that she would never leave him. But…

The only girl who never had wanted him as someone other than personal bank account or trophy boyfriend was… Hermione.

_Love, so many people use your name in vain_

Ron said he loved her as any man in love would, that he'd love her forever. Harry had nearly killed him when he found out that he had cheated on her with Luna Lovegood.

The next day, his two best friends broke up, thinking it for the best- for Ron's health or some other reason Harry never got the chance to find out. The two of them had seemed fine with the decision, because it meant that neither of them would become the weakest link once the enemy invaded. That's just what they had told him at the time, even though Harry was still angry for Ron's lies to the most kind, most gorgeous woman to ever exist, not to mention to him.

_Love those who have faith in you sometimes go astray_

_Love, through all the up and downs of joys and hurts_

Harry allowed the memory of his and Cho's first and only fight. And even then, although he had been hurt by her saying that he didn't like her as much as she thought he did, he had chosen his best friend over the older woman.

_Love, for better or worse I still will choose you first_

Carefully, his fingers moved her bangs away from her eyes. God, it was painful to him to see her in emotional pain, to watch as she grieved for her ex-boyfriend and close friend. She stirred lightly but didn't wake, only turned over to face him, those two inches now crossed.

By God, she was beautiful.

Almost scaring him out of his wits, he felt her move even closer to him, her back to his chest, lying on top of one of his arms. If anyone had told him that she would ever be this close to him a couple months ago, he would have laughed at them although he would secretly wish for the chance.

Slowly, his other arm wrapped around her in a soft embrace, holding her to him. For a moment, he had thought that he had heard a sigh of content escape her lips as she curled up into the mold that seemed to fit just for her called his body.

_Many days I've longed for you_

_Wanting you_

_Hoping for the chance to get to know you_

"Harry…" she whispered in her sleep, snuggling closer into his embrace. His face reddened as he had noticed that he had watched her lips say his own name. He realized something- he wanted to kiss her, to tell her everything, to tell the whole world that he cared for her, to calm her grief.

He never wanted her to stop saying his name ever in that content way she spoke right then.

But if he told her anything, that would bring him crashing back to reality with her simple disagreement of her own feelings for him. He wanted to know how she really felt for him, if anything at all other than the normal friendship.

_Longing for your kiss_

_For your kiss for your touch_

_For your answer_

He held her tighter, the more worse of his memories surfacing inside his mind.

"**Harry, what if one of us dies?" Ron questioned in the middle of the night, knowing full well that his best friend was awake. Harry Potter, the future savior of the world, never seemed to sleep anymore. He thought too much about what could happen while every wizard and witch alive would fight for the annihilation of Voldemort, the most feared and powerful dark wizard known to be alive. "Harry?"**

"**I don't know", he finally answered after what seemed to be an eternity of silence to Ron. "I guess… I guess we'll have to live on", the nearly adult wizard said, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that he could do such a thing if any of his friends died.**

**Every one of them remember how he was like after his Godfather's death.**

"**Harry", the red haired young man whispered into the bedroom, staring straight into the ceiling of their bedroom. "What will you do if-" He stopped, as if afraid to continue with the thought. "-if Hermione dies?"**

**The question scared Harry. He didn't really know how he would survive without her. If she left him during the most challenging time in his life, he wasn't sure how he would tolerate the world's most vile man. Without even his knowledge, a tear escaped his stronghold. "I'll… I'll survive, Ron."**

_Many nights I've cried from the things you do_

**His heart seemed to split in two the more he thought about losing her. If she did die, he would too. That's all he seemed to understand about the whole thing. Hermione was the one who always found a way to make him smile in the worst of all times. If she wasn't there to do that anymore…**

"**I'll survive", he whispered, trying to convince himself that he would.**

**But every image that flashed through his head throughout that whole night seemed to tear him into pieces, to destroy him slowly while Voldemort seemed to aim for the same effect.**

**Nothing would ever seem to be right if she left him.**

_Felt like I could die from the thought of losing you_

Harry relaxed his muscles, knowing that if he held any harder, she would most definitely wake and ruin the moment they had gotten themselves in. And that was just something that he wasn't willing to risk.

Having her asleep in his firm arms seemed to make him realize something- that she was alive, that the memory didn't kill his heart as he had thought it would, and that she wasn't in any means of danger. She was perfectly fine. And he couldn't help but wonder if the memory was making him more cold hearted.

As he took one short look at her sleeping from, he knew that she had a complete opposite affect on him. It made him feel alive. He didn't need to question the warmth that he felt inside of himself as his gaze remained upon her, nor the fact that his arm was going numb as she laid on it. She was real. Hermione wasn't going to die anytime soon, and he was glad to know that. He was happy to know that she was always going to be safe because Voldemort was dead and gone.

_I know that you're real_

_With no doubts or no fears_

_Or no questions_

'I love her', he thought to himself, his smile small yet bright enough to show his joy to have her in his arms, to know that she wasn't going to leave him.

All those people who believed that love was a bunch of kisses and a feeling you can't describe as anything other than lust was just overly wrong. This was how love felt. He was content to stay this way forever, her in his arms and him watching her closely as she breathed.

If only they could.

_Love, so many people use your name in vain_

Harry held her closer to him, wondering if his parents had gone through this, the pain and pleasure of being the best of friends, before finding out that they belonged together. It would make him feel a whole lot better to know that someone else was going through the same that he was.

His nose smelled her soft hair, smelling her sweet scent.

He shouldn't be this close to her. He could confess everything if he didn't move. Yet, he couldn't. His body, his heart, wouldn't allow him to move from his current position.

_Love, those who have faith in you sometimes go astray_

_Love, through all the up and downs of joys and hurts_

The Boy-Who-Lived smiled inwardly. 'From now until the end of my life, no matter how short or long it will end up being, you'll always be the first one who will have my heart wholly', he thought, closing his eyes, hoping to drift off into sleep.

_Love, for better or worse I still will choose you first_

His memories took hold of his dreams once again.

**He watched her, unsure why other than he was just doing it. Maybe he was keeping a watch on her for his git of a friend Ron, who was currently hoping that she wouldn't decide to hate him after all they (he) had done. They had saved her life only a couple days ago from that troll.**

"**Harry, what are you doing?" Neville asked, kneeling under the table the Boy-Who-Lived was under, joining him. He was confused about their savior, and rightfully so. Who would have ever believed that The Harry Potter was underneath a table in the library? The other young boy followed his intense gaze, seeing who it was upon. Somehow, this didn't surprise him as much as he thought it would. "You gonna ask her out Harry?"**

"**No!" the dark haired young boy shouted softly, looking around to see if anyone had heard him. "I'm… I'm doing this for Ron", he lied, keeping his voice soft. Harry himself truly didn't understand if that really was the case. Was it for his best friend? Or him? What about the bookworm make him feel uncomfortable? Was it the fact that, since he never really knew how to act around girls, let alone other people who cared at all for that matter, she just was a girl, a member of the opposite sex?**

**Neville's confused gaze didn't waver, as if sensing the lie.**

"**He wants to know if she still hates us", the young wizard tried, being as serious as he could. "You know how Ron is."**

"**Yea, Harry", the other boy said before getting out from under the table, leaving one confused Harry alone underneath. "See me in seventh year and tell me if that's still true."**

_At first you didn't mean that much to me_

**Harry pulled one startled Gryffindor from the pack of students at the beginning of the first official school day, which was going to start any moment now. He had been excelling in everything he could since the incident with Umbridge and losing his beloved Godfather two years before and knew that only a couple pounds of homework awaited him as soon as his first class started.**

"**Neville", he breathed as he pulled the student into an empty classroom, glad to finally be away from the thousands Harry knew they had just passed. "Do you remember that day in the library?"**

"**Which one?" asked the confused young man.**

"**Back in the first year of school", the dark haired wizard prompted, hoping that his forgetful friend hadn't forgotten this little memory.**

"**Wha- Oh", was his only response to the hint. He nodded, looking at Harry as if he had remembered something without the help of some magical device. "Yeah, Harry. Of course I do."**

"**Its seventh year and you had told me that I had to tell you the truth", Harry reminded, even knowing that Neville knew what he was talking about. "Well, between you and me…" Harry gulped, knowing that he now had to admit this to someone else besides himself. "I can't stop thinking about her. I need her to be with me, but I can't allow that until Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who is dead and gone."**

"**I knew it", the usually fumbling wizard stated proudly. "I knew it. I just knew it, Harry. You don't stare at someone, underneath a table in the library might I add, and not feel something."**

"**Oh, stuff it, Neville", muttered the potential assassin of the world's worst villain.**

"**What are you gonna do, Harry?" The question stumped him truthfully, not that he was going to tell him that. He had been asking himself that, and he still hadn't come up with any real answers. "When are you going to tell her?"**

"**After he's gone", was all he could answer with. "When the world is clean of his evil, I guess. That way, there's no real threat for her to live in fear of."**

_But now I know that you're all I need_

'The world's alright now', his own voice told him as the memory ended. 'You can tell her.' Flashes of the peaceful world came to his eyes. Children no longer scared of mentioning the name that brought fear to all those who heard or said it, and adults no longer had to hide in fear of being killed because they had crossed the wrong person, and… him.

Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding and muggle worlds, no longer had to pretend to be okay while everything around him fell apart. He was now, and would be forever. Even though his best guy friend was gone, he was still loved inside of Harry's heart, like Hermione would always love him like a brother and/or boyfriend.

Ron told him, right before falling dead in both of their arms, that he should love her, and he thanked him silently for not using her name when saying this, and not be afraid of anything. The only thing Harry should ever fear was death itself-

-And the wrath of Hermione once he would tell her from beyond the grave.

_The world looks so brand new to me_

_Now that I found love_

"You live for the day to tell her, so do it", Ron's voice told him, laughing slightly as he appeared inside of Harry's dream. "I've watched over you two love-birds, and I will always. You know that, you git." He paused, his smile fading to be replaced be a look of horror. "Oy, man, you do not want to know about Hermione's dreams. It was-" He shivered. "Well, I had to press the pause button to talk to her because there looked to be no way that it was going to stop, or slow down for that matter." He shivered again.

'No problem', he thought with a chuckle, glad to see him again after seeing him die, wondering what his friend was talking- and shivering- about. 'What's up, mate?'

_Everyday I live for you_

"Harry, you need to tell her", the red headed seventeen year-old told him, sounding a little frustrated. "You've been doing everything you can to help her with my death. I know you love her, mate, and she needs to know that too. It would make a lot of people turn over in their graves, and you and I both know that sometimes people just need it." Harry gave a mental laugh. "So, do it", he told his friend again.

'I'll try, Ron', the dark haired young man thought with a smile smiling curling his usually straight mouth. 'That's all I can do.'

_And everything that I do, I do for you_

_What I say is how I feel, so believe it's true_

_You got to know I'm true, Love_

"All I want", Ron told him with a happy smirk, turning his back from his long time friend, his body slowly disappearing into a holy light. He stopped midway, turning back. "And tell Luna that I love her, and not to be scared. I want that too." Once again, the smiling figure disappeared from his sights.

'I will', Harry said, hoping at he was giving his best friend the best send off he could while still asleep next to the woman he loved, still in his uncomfortable position. No matter, he enjoyed the way he felt, positioned as he was with her in his arms.

His long time grief for Ron was eased only by her presence. He wanted to tell her that, but he had no idea how. He did promise his dead friend that he would fess up to her, that he would go on a bended knee someday and love her forever, that he would finally know what her lips tasted like on a fresh new day.

But that day was a long time ahead of them. He wasn't ready, and Ron would just have to live with it.

_Love, so many people use your name in vain_

_Love, those who have faith in you sometimes go astray_

_Love, through all the up and downs of joys and hurts_

_Love, for better or worse I still will choose you first_

Harry slowly opened his eyes, greeting the new day with kind and soft eyes, the painful sunlight creeping through the closed curtains somehow. His emerald eyes strained to see her face, which had somehow gotten to face him during the middle of that night. The soft glow that had been produced by the dark curtains gave her a look of an angel, halo visible in the early morning, sleeping in the warm comfort of a loving embrace- and it was by far the most loving embrace he had ever seen or been found in.

God, he wished that he knew how she felt about him right then. At least then his promise to Ron wouldn't be so hard to think of actually doing. He wished with all of his heart that she loved him too, and that she wouldn't flee the moment he would confess, whenever that would be.

_Love, so many people use your name in vain_

_Love, those who have faith in you sometimes go astray_

_Love, through all the up and downs of joys and hurts_

_Love, for better or worse I still will choose you first_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_orokid: Don't kill me. I was just feeling a bit too sappy for my own good and my friend is ready to kill me because I offed her favorite character, and that would explain why I made Ron appear even though he's dead. On a side note, there is a reason Ron asked Harry to tell Luna not to be scared, and it isn't because she's without our favorite Weasley son. I'm not telling what's up, but that's my only hint. Laughs evilly. Sees a squad of people wearing 'Ron Rawks' t-shirts._

_Other people (-chanting-) : Kill the author! You killed him, you bastard!_

_orokid: Well, sorry guys. The mobs here. Gotta do my three laps around my town so I can still live by tomorrow. Looks back at the mob, which is advancing Heh heh… Ummm… Bye. Runs._

_Other people: Get them!_


	4. Sunday Morning

_orokid/disclaimer: Well, okay … I'm back with the forth installment. Another song, another chapter, another dimension… Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I still own nothing and I'm still unhappy about it. What's new? Please note that I'll probably be updating a lot later (or sooner, whichever. Depends on how much fire is under my butt.) than usual because my mom is saying no more home internet use._

_By the way, in case you haven't noticed yet, I'm using Maroon 5 this chapter! My friends will be happier with me now, and they won't try to kill me for never using a song sung by them._

_I guess that's it for now. I'll try to keep posting and I promise that I'll try to update my Gundam Wing story Sees evil reviewers that read my other fanfics with maces and clubs. Eep. Don't kill me. I promise!_

_Once again, I don't own anything. I don't own this song (damn…) nor the characters. The song belongs to Maroon 5 and the characters to JK Rowling._

_lyrics_

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**flashbacks**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_**Sunday Morning**_

Morning called to Hermione, which had been a usual thing for her around the time she was assuming it was. She had become used to the Hogwarts schedule- waking at one time, getting up long enough to get dressed, fumble about to find the bathroom with a haze from sleep still covering her eyes…

But she wasn't at school anymore. She was a graduate now, degree to do whatever she was capable of- which was almost everything a witch or wizard was able to do. Ron had made a joke that she could be Flich's cat's assistant, yet still get paid more galleons than him and another teacher combined. They all had laughed, and it only saddened her to know that he was now a distant memory of chuckles and smiles. Ron Weasley was…

…a spirit that visited her in her dreams last night.

She said that if he was so rudely going to interrupt with something that was so important, that he should somehow give her a sign that he was. That way she would have wet dreams about her and one certain wizard another time, and he wouldn't have to pretend to barf in a corner of the space he stood in.

His message had surprised her. He, a young man who had problems with saying what he thought about certain people (unless her was angry about it), had advised her to confess to Harry about what she felt toward him, a wizard who had defeated the most powerful man of their time. She couldn't possibly do that. He didn't love her.

Not like she loved him at least.

She slowly opened her eyes, listening to the lull of raindrops falling outside the room, sleepily pulling the covers toward her. She had forgotten that her best friend was still using them as warmth. At least, she had until she heard him moan as the cold enveloped him so quickly. Instead of awakening to the harsh removal of the covers, the brown haired witch felt the young man who had taken residence in the same bed as her last night (on her request, of course) snuggle closer to her body.

"Five more minutes", she heard him whisper as his strong arms firmed around her waist. She hadn't even known that he was holding her right then

How had they gotten into this position last night? Harry? Did he-?

_Sunday morning rain is fallin'_

_Steal some covers; share some skin (I'd like that)_

_Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable_

_You twist to fit the mold that I am in_

"Harry, get up", she whispered, not entirely wanting to herself. She feared that if he had decided to get up, that this was to be the final time this would ever happen to her. She didn't want that. She wanted to be near him. Always.

But she needed to live up to the title that had been given to her by her fellow graduates- the ever resilient, always responsible Hermione Jane Granger. The last thing she needed right now, especially after what had happened during the second war a week or so ago, was to not justify that remark because she was responsible. She was resilient.

She was only human.

"I don't wanna", he mumbled childishly, pulling her closer, his face digging into her hair. She heard him breathe in, and she only wished that he had done that on purpose, not because he was sleepy and wanted to sleep a bit longer. "Just a little longer, 'Mione."

'At least he knows who he's talking to', she thought with a smile, placing her arms upon his as if to rest them. "Fine. But only a little longer. I'm waking you in thirty minutes, Harry." She only heard him grunt in response before she felt his arms loosen and his breathing become heavier.

This memory was going to always be imprinted into her mind, and it was going to be harder than she thought it would be to get them out of this position in thirty minutes time.

_But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do_

Thirty minutes passed and there seemed to be no way that she was even in the remote thought process of moving either of them. With a sigh, she heard him murmur a spell, the windows letting in enough sunlight to wake him up.

His muscled arms slipped out from underneath her, and she blushed as she realized that she had enjoyed the feeling, and ambled out of bed, heading for the back of the room, towards the bathroom hidden by a wall that separated the room and the shower. She realized something as she heard the shower turn on:

How was he not realizing that she had slept in his arms the whole night?

She wished Ron were here. At least then she'd have a confidant to speak to about her hidden fixation with her best friend. That was the whole reason that they had broken up in the first place- she loved Harry and Ron had fallen for Luna. It was an agreement as lovers that they were better off as friends. Many times, she had spoken to him about her feelings and he gave the best advice he could from a guy's perspective. Not that she didn't find the hints helpful; It was just that she just didn't use any of the advice he had given her.

God, she wished that there was someway to get her best confidant back.

_And I would glad hit the road, get up and go if I knew_

_That someday it would lead me back to you_

_That someday it would lead me back to you_

Slowly, she closed the curtains, no light allowed to enter the room yet after waking up from her long, tiring sleep, and then used her magic to clean the room and pack both of their things. Nothing went wrong, not like it always had ever but she was glad to know that she had perfected the techniques so well that she barely had needed her wand to cast the spells.

She heard his shower end, only to see Harry come out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel around his waist and his glasses upon his face. She nearly fainted at the sight, remembering that this was how her dream last night had started before being so rudely interrupted.

His dark ebony hair, usually wild, was tamed by the water and a quick comb through his hair. She knew that they wouldn't stay that way, but it was just so much for her to see. Plus, his abs, although seen the night before, were dripping wet, the water gleaming seductively at her, seemed to be even tougher than she had supposed only hours ago.

Why was God tormenting her with this? Now, of all times? Why couldn't she just love some other bloke instead of him? At least then, gazing at him so hard wouldn't seem too bothersome to herself.

"No lights?" he asked her with a laugh, a crooked smile upon his face. As she shook out of her harsh gaze, she fumbled to the light switch, blushing like mad. She thanked the fact that there wasn't any light. That way, he didn't see how red her face was right then. "No. It's okay. I think its better this way. No unwanted parts seen in view then." She felt herself nodding, but only barely.

She was too numb at the prospect of seeing Harry without that towel…

_That may be all I need_

_In darkness she is all I see_

_Come and rest your bones with me_

After dressing in the same jeans he had worn the day before and a white t-shirt, they walked together to his truck, both still in their own little worlds, the rain softly beating against their brows.

"'Mione, what day is it?" he questioned suddenly as he placed both of their bags down in the truck's bed. It just struck her that she didn't know herself. She had been too busy mourning and loving her two best friends, not to mention fighting in the world's second, more lethal might I add, war.

Hermione bit her bottom lip as she opened the passenger side door, staring down at the side Harry would be on seconds later. "I don't know", she answered him truthfully. She counted back, trying to remember the last day she remembered being important to her. Her mother's birthday, a week before the war had started. Thirteen plus… Take over the one… According to her calculations, today was-

"Sunday", he said aloud as he looked down the highway which lay beside the hotel, beating her to the answer to her displeasure. "Not a lot of people on the road today." His gaze turned to her, and he only smiled. "We can take as long as we want."

"Yeah", she whispered back at him, his smile catching. "Let's go slow today."

The dark haired adult jumped into his seat, overturning the engine. Today, it was just her and him on the road. She had forgotten to mourn, to look sad about her friend's death. All she could think about was that she didn't want to stop driving with him, that she never wanted to stop smiling and laughing with him ever again, and that she would always have this feeling shown yet not known.

_Driving slow on Sunday morning_

_And I don't ever want to leave_

Harry and Hermione's laughter paused as they passed a place in the middle of nowhere that both of them held dearly, secretly, remembering a past memory that seemed to sting their hearts. He pulled over, trying not to allow the memory to overtake him at his presently weak state, and stared straight down at the steering column. His hands seemed glued to the wheel.

A soft familiar hand touched one of his tense palms, and he sighed out a breath he hadn't known that he was holding. She understood. More than anyone else would.

This was where Voldemort's downfall took place.

Where Ron died in their arms.

Where their innocence was lost to the next generation.

This was Hell.

Hermione gave him a reassuring smile, wanting to do anything that would take his mind away from the pain that this place made them both remember. They had been running for a couple days now, trying to escape everything that they could of the war's pain, of their past. Now, they couldn't hide from it. It was right there, beside them.

On an impulse, she moved toward him, slowly but… she was moving towards him. Her lips parted slightly as she moved closer, close enough to feel her breathing on his cheek. Was she-?

"Forget", she whispered into the air, touching his face with a worried hand, her fingers lightly dabbing the scars on his left cheek. She remembered how he had received them. During the final battle, one of the women Death-Eaters had clawed him in the face. He only allowed a silent scream escape his scabbed lips as the pain had coursed through his veins.

_Fingers trace your every outline_

_Paint a picture with my hands_

Her arms circled around him, her eyes drowning in the tears that she knew were coming. How could she ask him to forget the pain in their lives so fast when she herself had trouble placing the pain behind her. What type of person was she to say such a thing?

Then she realized that, once again in life, she, Hermione Granger, was being hypocritical.

But here he was, smiling, although weakly, and nodding at her as if he didn't care how hypocritical he was being. They had survived a war together, their best friend had 'kicked the bucket', and they still were standing as strong as they could under the pressure the world placed upon them.

_And back and forth, we sway like branches in a storm_

_Change of weather, still together when it ends_

They sat there until nightfall, the engine off and their gazes lost upon the world. Yet their minds were centered upon the same subject- how the world would have been without the other, just the same as with Ron still among the living.

Every time their thoughts about their lost friend came to the surface of their minds, they both seemed to remember what he had said during their dreams. Hermione would blush madly, unsure if he should have even seen that. She didn't really care if he was dead- he had walked into her most erotic dream and he had needed to be punished immediately. Something that had to be worse than death, she told herself, her face growing even pinker at the memory.

Harry, on the other hand, would just stare at the leather bound steering wheel, slightly red-faced, just thinking about how he would keep his promise to Ron.

His head swiveled to look at her, his emerald orbs drinking in the sight of her every curve and her surprisingly red cheeks. This, of course, gave the dark haired young man an idea.

_That may be all I need_

_In darkness she is all I see_

She was cold- that's why she looked so red- and she needed some warmth, right?

One of his hands dug underneath his seat, fingers clinging to whatever he felt that he needed at the moment. Where was it? Keeping to his blind search, he finally felt something soft at his fingertips, bringing a small smile to his lips.

"Come here", he ordered lightly, pulling out a bundled up blanket from under him, it burnt lightly on it's edges and looked to be a couple years old.

Dumbledore had sent it to him on his birthday this year. At first, he had been confused- until he had seen his initials on the corners and a message of love from his own deceased parents. The message was nearly worn out by now, but he knew that it was there, strung into the fabric forever, no matter what would happen.

Hermione, although a little confused, scooted nearer to him until she was right up beside him. She took her chance to smell his musky scent, to enjoy being so close to him, only to feel something wrap around her legs. Looking down, she noticed the blanket he had been fiddling with before the final battle encircling both of their legs. Why did he-?

She shook her head. This was plain, nice Harry. He didn't do this for any other reason other than the fact that he cared for her.

"Sleep", he told her with a smile, turning the cold engine over. The noise almost whited-out the sound of raindrops hitting against the truck, but you can always hear rain no matter what you try. "It's been a long day." He patted his shoulder, gazing at her, his emerald orbs seemingly playful for the first time in a long while. "This will always be here as your napping space, 'Mione."

She nodded, lying her head down upon his calm shoulder as he pulled out from the space they had sat in for hours on end. He drove slowly, either wanting to escape an accident from the rain or just trying to lull her to sleep with his easy breathing.

Whichever it was, it was working.

_Come and rest your bones with me_

_Driving slow on Sunday morning_

_And I don't ever want to leave_

Memories beckoned at her dreams.

"'**Mione, do you love Harry?" Ron asked her, him saddened by a fact that hadn't been presented to her at any time. She looked at him, unsure if the question was serious or just a joke. If she said yes, either way she'd have one less boyfriend than she had yesterday, and her current total at the moment was only one.**

"**Of course, Ron", she answered almost defiantly, hoping to hide her blush as she pulled a large book with an incredible two-thousand pages in front of her face. "He's my best friend. Why wouldn't I love him?"**

"**Hermione", he called to her seriously, a thing this red-headed young man had always had a problem of with her, him unmoving from his current position in the chair opposite of hers. He reached over the space that separated them, his hand pulling the book down from her eyes. "The truth, 'Mione. I promise that I won't be so mad."**

"**Says the man who exploded to Harry about getting into the Tri-wizard Tournament", she muttered to herself, closing the book that was in her grasp. "Why does it matter all that much, Ron?"**

"**Because I don't want to be the reason that's holding you back from your true love", he explained sadly, his eyes glued to the floor now. "I'd understand it if you were. He's just… bloody perfect. I can't compete." He looked up briefly, giving her a weak gaze. "I love you enough to let you go, 'Mione."**

"**Then…" She bit her lower lip, not quite trusting herself to answer him truthfully. If she told the truth, how would he take it? He had said that he'd understand, but she truthfully didn't trust that. He was the type of person to say one thing yet end up doing another. Her answer stayed stuck in between her hesitant 'ums' and 'uhs', and that didn't give him all that much hope. "I… I guess so, Ron", she whispered, defeated by her own inner struggles.**

"**I guess… no more us."**

**She nodded sadly, feeling horrible for telling her boyfriend that she loved another man. It seemed to be the knife in his wounded pride; she understood it like that inside her head. "Friends still? All of us?" she asked, hopeful that this hadn't ruined everything.**

**He watched her with an amused smile. "Of course."**

_But things just get so crazy, living life just gets so hard to do_

"Harry…" she mumbled out as she slept peacefully on his shoulder, surprising him out of his mind. So much so that he had almost slammed onto the brakes and pull over to the side again so he could wake and question her about it.

What was she dreaming about? And what did he have to do with it? Was it about him? If so, was he good?

"Harry…love … Ron… me….I … why… love…"

He didn't understand. It was just a mumbled speech of burbles to him, and it was killing him inside to no end that he didn't know what her dream was about.

He felt her snuggle up into his side a little more, her head burying itself into the crook of his neck, softly sighing in a content way that it even made the tense eighteen year-old young man calm down. It didn't matter right now what she was thinking about in another universe. All that mattered to him was that she was alive and currently, although slowly, getting herself into a position that would call for questions once again.

_And Sunday morning rain if fallin' and I'm calling out to you_

_Singing someday it would lead me back to you_

Harry continued to drive, careful not to awake the beauty that slept on his shoulder for about an hour now. He was even going numb by the pressure that was placed upon his arm.

He wondered what Ron would say. Probably something about waking her up and telling her that he loved her with every fiber of being in his soul, then to pull over to the next stop and snog her senselessly. Yes. That would be something Ron would tell him. Also, the red haired man would somehow put in a comment about driving to the next town and doing… something else… senselessly to her.

Not that he was going to pay attention to the advice.

At least, not right now.

_Find a way to bring my soul back home to you_

_And you may not know_

_That may be all I need_

_In darkness she is all I see_

_Come and rest your bones with me_

_Driving slow on Sunday morning_

_I'm drivin' slow_

Harry smiled peacefully, resting his head upon hers as he drove, never keeping his eyes off the road or his mind off of the young woman beside him.

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orokid: Well, what do you think? A little weird? Maybe, but it all depends to you. As of now, I have no idea what song I'm using for the next chapter so I'd like your help on this one. Please. I'm not joking. I'm looking through all my favorite songs and I still can't find anything. Cries and grabs your shirt. Please! Help me! I need help! Not just mentally any more! Goes back to normal Oh, and by the way, have any of you noticed that my chapters have ended up like J.K. Rowling's books- longer than the last, I mean. I'm trying to cut down, although I'm asking if you'd like it like that. Tell me if you'd like my songfic-chapters to be longer. I'd appreciate it. Thanks.


	5. Why Are We Still Friends?

_**orokid**: there are some instances in this story that has no relation to Book 6, and, since I would believe that the book is true and is some fabrication while the true one is where Harry and Hermione FINALLY figure out that they love one another and lead the way to defeating the Dark Lord. But that's just my opinion. I have no real records of there even being the clue for the REAL story between my favorite couple._

_Well, I was looking at this song, trying to figure out what to post for chapter five of Mending the Heartache, and it felt like, I dunno, an epiphany maybe? It was like "Hey! Harry and Hermione are already in conflicting emotions, wanting to tell the other but too freakin' afraid to, so… WHAT THE HELL!" Lol_

_Anyway…_

_**Disclaimer**: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER, THE CHARACTERS, OR THE MUSIC THAT I USE IN THIS MUSICAL CHAPTER STORY! "Why Are We Still Friends" belongs to 98 degrees, and "Harry Potter" belongs to JK Rowling, the creator of Hogwarts and everything else._

_Now that that's over… on with the fic!_

_((I'm gonna use a text reference! Actually from the book kinda…! Same idea and around the words used, but… you get the idea!))_

_Lyrics_

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**Memories**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_**Why Are We Still Friends**_

Harry glanced over quickly to the angel that was sleeping on his arm, and he couldn't help but feel relaxed as she just laid there, his arm his pillow. This moment felt like it was perfect, and he just knew that nothing could ruin it- unless she woke up, of course, but it didn't seem as if she'd do such a thing yet. His shoulder could feel her breath, moving in and out almost rhythmically as she slept, and he was doing all that he could to make sure that nothing occurred out of the ordinary- such as him giving into his emotions and waking her with a snog.

That, in itself, would be more than disastrous, considering just who this woman was and what she was capable. Why, wasn't she the one to stun Bellitrix long enough until the war was finally over and the officials would cart her off to Azkaban? Personally, he wasn't one to wish for that outcome.

He sighed, wondering just why he hadn't truly done anything yet to announce his feelings to the young woman who seemed so adamant to stay so close to him. Even Ron's bloody _spirit_ was getting annoyed from beyond the grave with Harry's inaction! Maybe he should just bite the bullet and just tell her what he felt, how he couldn't live without her, how he'd die without her there with him. Maybe.

Then again, maybe not.

What if she didn't love him, let alone even like him in such a way? She'd only shy away from their friendship, and they'd once more be strangers, like how they were in their first year at Hogwarts. Their friendship meant everything to him, and he would be damned if he'd brake that bond that they shared just because of something that would possibly disappear.

Although, if it would disappear, why hadn't it for all this time? Why hadn't it gone away from all the time he had held back his emotions for all these years?

Inside of Harry James Potter, he knew that those feelings wouldn't ever go away, and that he'd always be cursed to love the young woman who would forever be his best mate. Once again, things in Harry's life just didn't seem fair.

He could remember every single Hogsmeade trip that Ron had run off with one of his many girlfriends, although the most often were always Lavender and Luna, and then finally mostly Luna in the end. The emerald eyed teen could remember them because it was the time he got to spend with Hermione alone, and they could just hang out.

And he would, stupidly, pretend that this was some sort of date that his redheaded best mate would make for them, and that the man would just run off because it _would_ give them time together.

For that, he thanked his friend, even if there might be a chance that he couldn't hear him over whatever quidditch match he was over-looking at that moment in time. Harry had heard that the Chudley Cannons were playing out in Russia somewhere…

Anyway, he had to focus on his current problem- possibly telling Hermione Granger his deepest darkest secret that he even held away from Voldemort (although he had no clue how he had done it) and everyone else that had him on their hit lists. The last thing he needed was her death on his head, just because he was in love with her.

_We do almost everything that lovers do  
And that why's it's hard just to be friends with you_

Hermione actually wasn't asleep, but rather just reveling in their closeness, in the fact that he refused to move her from the comfortable position she had found. She let out a soft, barely heard sigh as she began to think of something that only made her depressed at the mere thought, and she felt him look at her to see if she had awaken yet- which she wasn't going to, she decided. Truthfully, she was too comfy to even pretend that she was going to move, but she knew that she'd have a crick in her neck when she had to wake up.

But, for right now, this was perfect. No future pain was going to bother her now.

The reason she had sighed, though, was the fact that his former loves had come into her mind. She had thought of the girls before her that had found comfort, love, in this position, as friendly as it was. And it was that connection to her memory, when he had returned from the break-up with Cho Chang, that had flared up the knowledge that she couldn't ever be loved by him.

But, even then, when he had returned near to tears, she knew that she loved him. The very sight of his tears had always killed her inside, but, when she had heard that Cho had been the cause, she felt as though they felt the same wavelength of pain, the same stabbing through the heart sensation.

Why couldn't he have fallen for a _normal_ girl, someone like her- or maybe even Ginny (although she just _didn't_ believe that the match up would be quite right)? Then, at least, she would at least have a slight feeling that she would have a chance for his heart.

But she didn't, so that point was moot and then some. How could she ever compete with the beauty of the Goddess of Ravenclaw? The fact was, she couldn't. So why should she even risk trying for something she just couldn't nor wouldn't ever have? Let alone go through the embarrassment of the entire turn down by her closest best mate, who would most likely be freaked out by her brilliant actions?

_And every time your heart is broken by the fool_

_I want you to know that it hurts me too  
It's hard to wipe your tears away  
Knowing you should be with me, tell me _

Harry thought back to the young woman who had fallen for him, or the ones that he had thought he had fallen for in the past years. There were always imperfections, things that just didn't suit his personality, as well as his own affections and the reasons he had been so ready to give them his heart.

Then there was Hermione, who was more than perfect in his eyes, who always helped him despite him being a prick at times. She was so loyal to him, and he felt as if he did absolutely nothing for her while she did everything that was needed for him. She helped prepare him for the trials in the Triwizard Tournament by teaching him the Accio charm, and also by telling him more times than not just what they were up against- IE the basilisk in their second year. She was so calm, brave, and helpful to almost everyone- minus the evil and conniving Slytherins. He couldn't remember a potions lab where she and Neville hadn't teamed up and-

All of a sudden, he had gotten the sudden urge to pummel the other boy, even if he didn't know where he was now, or even if he hadn't truly done anything wrong.

'Back to Hermione', he told himself firmly, trying to tell himself to get off the (surprisingly pleasuring) thought of beating up one of his good friends and back to the woman of his dreams. 'Back to Hermione, Harry.'

He sighed, looking about the road, pulling over to the side of the road, unable to continue driving while he couldn't exactly think straight.

_Why, why are we still friends  
When everything says  
We should be more than what we are _

He couldn't help his thoughts that turned to Cho, his eyes looking over the young woman who had cuddled up against his shoulder. As beautiful as she had seemed on the outside, the beauty on the inside had been greatly misunderstood until the final moment. But… Hermione Granger… his very own best mate…

To him, she had all the beauty in the world- inside and out. She was the most perfect person in the entire universe, and he felt more than glad that he was at the very least her friend.

Although he had Cho had failed in a relationship, their friendship was still there- even if there were awkward moments between them still. The reason they had split in the first place had been because he had refused to pretend that Hermione meant little to him, that he wasn't going to just blow her off because whatever she had to do wasn't as important as Cho made herself out to be.

Still, after all that, they were friends, while he and Hermione…

… were still friends.

_And tell me why  
Everytime I find someone that I like  
We always end up being just friends_

He hated the mere idea of Hermione finding someone else, of being another man's girl, and the thought that hurt him the most was the gentle thought of her finding comfort in someone else's arms. If… If that happened…

He felt like he'd die if that happened.

But he knew that if he kept worrying, kept thinking that she'd love another being that wasn't him or the feline she had been so attached to (before he had been whisked home by her worries to her dear mum and dad), she WOULD find someone that would make her smile and laugh in ways he treasured inside himself. He was afraid of that, and that such an occurrence would happen to him, but…

He didn't know anything anymore, really. As much as he hated not understanding anything, he also enjoyed having the unknown just out of his reach. Still, as confusing as this was…

Bloody Hell, he was just confusing himself the more he thought. Skip the thinking part from here on out. At least, for now he would. Later, he'd go back to the confuzzled thinking-ness.

_I would hate for you to find somebody new  
Who you really love cause it could mean losing you _

_But am I a fool girl not to say  
If I'm always scared I'll lose you anyway _

_Somehow someway I've got to choose  
Got to choose no matter if it's win or lose _

Hermione sighed once more, her thoughts still centered upon the young man she laid upon, and by the way he was shifting his weight over, they both knew that he found out that she wasn't really sleeping. As long as he assumed that the other moments she had been snuggled against him like she had been was a time well spent with dreams, she felt like that be an okay thing- in fact, it'd be very enjoyable to her if he thought that.

Her memories found her again, and she felt unable to hold them back as her heart speed in the remembrance.

**Harry had just returned from his sour date with the young woman he had convinced himself to have loved, his mood just about the same with how his date had turned out. He had been angry on arrival, a scowl on his face and huffing all the way to the table where he had flopped down into the awaiting seat. But who was angry at in particular?**

**The bushy haired young woman had no idea who his mood was against, but why did she have a feeling in the pit of her stomach that it was all her fault?**

"**Where's Cho?" she asked as sweetly as she could, although he stomach was close to revolting at the way she had words. In no way had she meant them to be sweet and good natured, but… he was her best mate and she wanted to do just about everything to make sure that he was happy with all he had chosen.**

**And if Cho is who he chose, than she's swallow her pride and smile when she wished to frown.**

**And she'd swallow her pride just for him. The same pride that she had slugged Malfoy for saying such rude things about her friends and about her blood (although he always found a way to get her bloodlines into a conversation, cause he was special like that).**

"**We had a fight", he told her simply, sighing as he let his tough façade fall from his features, his gentleness returning to him and his hard, statue-like persona falling away from his eyes, the emeralds flowing with depression and frustration. A hand ran through his dark hair, allowing the young woman a brief glace at the scar he tried so hard to hide. "I told her that I wanted to meet you here after our date, and she just… exploded on me, I suppose."**

**Hermione's jaw seemed to go slack, looking at him as if he had caught the snitch right before pulling up from the ground, just before he'd hit the grassy plains that were the pitch. He… "Merlin Harry, I- You-" She was speechless, unsure what to say to her best mate after he had revealed such information to her. "You should've told her that I was forcing you to be here! That- That you didn't want to be here, and that I was making you come here because… I don't know. Some sort of reason that she would understand!"**

**She was flustered, trying to tell him what he should've done, just because he liked this girl as much as he did and she only wanted what he wanted. He had ruined his chances, maybe, with Cho! "And then- then you should've told her that- that I was ugly, and- and- and-"**

**Harry looked at her as if she had spoken the strangest thing in the universe, like she had spoken to a ghost or something of the sort, and he placed a gentle hand upon her lips so to make her stop her babbles from continuing any further. His eyes… They were so gentle, so hurt, so… something that she couldn't explain as she sat there with flushed cheeks, with his hand over her mouth.**

"**Hermione… I don't think you're ugly…"**

**Those words once more made her speechless, and she would've sat there with wide eyes and mouth agape- if he hadn't covered it, of course. She had to just watch him with her chocolate orbs (that would resemble something like plates), and wait for him to remove his hand.**

**Finally, the moment passed, his fingers falling down from her mouth. The two sat in silence and waited for the other to speak, to say something that would rid them of this awkward moment. Hermione took this moment to reach down into the seat next to her, trying her hardest from that point on to return to the work that she had planned for both Harry and the DA.**

_Why, why are we still friends  
When everything says  
We should be more than what we are _

She returned to her thoughts of how her relationship with Ron hade turned out, although how could they call it a relationship when all the two of them wished was to be in the arms of someone they assumed they couldn't have. Ron wanted to be with Luna (although the brown haired young adult had NO idea how he had gotten a fixation with a girl after he tried so hard to make sure she didn't like him) and Hermione wanted Harry (even if he was her best mate).

And, after the two of them had settled that a break up was probably the best thing for their relationship, they returned to being the best of friends yet again.

Just like how she and Viktor had decided it. And every other boyfriend she might've had over the decade. That's just how all her relationships had happened, and that's how she preferred them now.

_And tell me why  
Everytime I find someone that I like  
We always end up being just friends_

Harry watched the young woman sit up from where she had napped, smiling softly as he turned his eyes back to the road they drove upon. She was awake now, and that made him both excited and glad by the prospect of her awake-ness. He was glad, because now he had someone to talk to (although they really didn't speak much anyway while on this trek of forgiveness).

But he was depressed because now he had to hide his snuck glances he more than he had when she had been asleep and unaware of his eyes. Also, she'd be once more depressed because their friend's death was an ever present feature in their lives now.

And, also, because all she would think about him was the fact that he was her best friend, the man that was the little brother she never had (since she was almost a couple months older than him). To tell the truth, those things were great to be, although not when his heart yearned for her heart to be his, and vice-versa. It wasn't fair to either of them that their loves weren't ever going to love them, since Harry was more than sure she held onto the feelings she felt for Ronald Weasley (and he was just a little dead) and Harry himself was in love with a woman who saved her heart for another.

Fate wasn't fair.

_I don't want to be like your brother  
I don't want to be your best friend  
I only want to be your lover _

Harry couldn't live without her in his life, so he was willing to keep this relationship plutonic if that was what she wanted. But all HE wanted was to hold her in his arms, to kiss her lips, to give her the comfort that she wanted. He knew that it was a foolish thought, something that was most likely improbable of happening, but… he couldn't help it. This man who was named the savior of the wizarding world loved her more than anything he could use to describe it with.

Hell, if she begged and pleaded him to, he would give up his aspirations to become a internationally known seeker. That was how much he loved her.

He wanted this pain in his heart to stop, for this feeling that made him want to be with her every moment of the day. It was impossible to occur, but… he just wanted the hurt to go away, even if it meant loosing himself along the way. That way, she could live without him needing her.

He sighed softly, almost unheard to the tiny insect that was buzzing about his head right then. Harry didn't know what to do, but what if… what if he told her? What if he told her his deepest, darkest secret that had NOTHING to do with the pale, snake-eyed man that haunted his dreams still? Would she accept his love?

Or would she laugh at him, and make him pass it off as some sort of joke so to save face?

He didn't know, but… he wished that he did. At least, then, love would become much easier.

_When will this end?  
If I told you that I want to be in your life?   
Then you could be the woman in mine_

Hermione reached between them, then over to his side, following the ridges of the blanket that he had laid across them. This was so hard for her- to sit here and say nothing about the war that raged between her heart and mind.

And, so far, her mind was winning.

That alone was what held her back from telling the man beside her the difficulties of being his friend when all she wanted was to make him hers and hers alone, to be his one and only. She already understood that he was hers, and no one would ever steal him away- because the only way she'd let him go was by him going with or after the woman he most desired.

Her gentle fingers trailed above his lap, and she blushed lightly at the thoughts that came across her mind- and she did her best to force them away without doing anything that would complicate this friendship any further. To save herself from doing just that, she moved the blanket towards the man she loved even further, and she tried to make him understand without saying anything that she had taken most of the covers.

His emerald eyes glanced at her momentarily, and they seemed filled with laughter and mirth that she hadn't seen for… Merlin! Years!

_Now tell me-_

_Why, why are we still friends  
When everything says  
We should be more than what we are _

"Keep it with you, 'Mione. You need it more than I do."

She lowered her eyes so to make sure he didn't see the blush that came upon her cheeks as he turned his eyes to the road for the millionth time (although she didn't know that). Nervously, she began to wring her wrists with her fingertips, keeping her eyes low, only stopping so to move the blanket over her more once again.

Like always, it figured that Harry would become the same thing just like all her other crushes and past loves.

He would always be her friend.

_And tell me why  
Everytime I find someone that I like  
We always end up being just friends_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_orokid: yeah… Okay… I'm a dork… But whatever! I don't care all that much. I know it's kinda been a year since I last posted in this fic, and I'm very sorry for the wait. But, like I said in my profile, I write VERY slowly. I'm sorry… (give puppy dogs eyes to the audience and some awe and drop their pitchforks) I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so… (three hours later) … sorry! (People pick up their pitchforks again and glare, totally annoyed by my repentance. I only run.) SOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRY!_


	6. Not Just Me

_orokid: Heheh… yeah… so I changed my name. Sue me. Anyway… I got bored, and I really like this group! Lol. This is my second song made by this group, but it's not the second song I've used in my fanfics writing career!_

_Disclaimer: No ownership of Harry Potter or the characters let alone the song "Not Just Me" by Rascal Flatts. Plot- kinda, but not enough that it's completely MY idea… but whatever. Don't sue, 'cause I don't have any money…_

_Lyrics_

Normal

**Memories**

'_thoughts'_

_**Chapter Six**_

Harry couldn't remember how he had winded up in the arms of the woman he had been holding the night before. He could barely remember how he had driven into the parking lot of a nearby inn, and how he had asked for a room, and how he had stumbled inside with her on his heels.

And how she had asked to, once more, join him in the same bed, claiming the same reasons as before.

But… here he was, the two of them entwined with one another as though it were the easiest thing in the world. And to Harry, it was the hardest thing to get out of- especially in the mornings, when all he wanted to do nowadays was to hold onto her and never let her slim form from his embrace. And why, of all things, was he awake and just now noticing these things?

Because he had found it becoming harder each time to fall into his dreams while she pressed her body to his in the middle of the night. He couldn't have nice, sterile dreams while she'd wrap her arms about his waist and hold him tight, saying his name every once in a while (although he wasn't sure if it had been out of fear or ecstasy, although he'd secretly like the latter of the two…). Sure, to Harry, 'sterile' meant that he'd be reliving the entire bout with He-Who-Killed-Harry's-Other-Best-Mate, but it was better than feeling his… um… wand… yeah, wand… rev up with… uh… magic. Especially against the person whom his 'wand' was reacting to.

And, to anyone who didn't understand yet, he'd dream of the two of them, of her, doing things that shouldn't be mentioned here. At least, not yet… He had to sum up the courage (because his Gryffindor pride seemed to leave him each time he was by her side).

_Tell me you've had trouble sleeping_

_That you toss and turn from side to side_

_That it's my face you've been seeing_

_In your dreams at night_

But it wasn't as it he could do anything about how his mind would react to her closeness- but he should be used to it! How many nights had he and Hermione fallen asleep upon each other in the common room while working on a report, or just reading about something or nothing in particular? Too many to count!

But that though alone made him think of some of those mornings, where something he couldn't even get explained to him happened.

**Harry shook himself awake, not sure where he was but obviously trying to remember. There before him were many things that could jog his memory, of course, like they would always when this happened- and the brown curls that seemed to obscure his view every once in a while seemed to jog his memory as well.**

**They had fallen asleep, right there on the couch, his right hand still standing on the paper with a quill still laying lazily in his grip- although there seemed to be a large blotch from where the ink had dripped onto the page, staining it until it had become useless. That meant that he had to start all over again, as 'fun' as that sounded, but he didn't want to be the one to cost his house points from Potions, like always. Not that it mattered all that much, considering the fact that their certain teacher seemed to have it out for him…**

**Still… he didn't mind it at all. There was a reason to it, like there always was when things like this happened, but he wouldn't throw himself around and act like a child, such as their good friend Ronald would have by now. And the reason was simpler than anyone could understand- the woman he loved had spent her night with him and had found her place to dream on his (now numb) arm, albeit inadvertently.**

**But that wouldn't ruin the feeling inside his body. Nothing could. She was too perfect for him, so a treat like this was welcomed more than anything he had gotten in his entire life.**

**But… something did pull him out of his perfect reverie. His unfocused emerald eyes (since his glasses had somehow found their way off of his face) had turned to look at the blurry yet angel-like form of the young woman that was his One and Only, the love of his life, and found his heart breaking with every millisecond that was passing.**

**She was crying in her sleep.**

"'**Mione?" he asked softly, nudging her gently, trying to wake her from whatever it had been that had caused tears to come to her eyes. He was worried about her, and he wanted to see what he could do to cheer her up. All he knew then was that he'd do everything in his power to hear her laughter, see her smile that would day, even if it'd make him look like a total buffoon before his very peers. It didn't matter to him what people thought of him when she was like this. What did matter was her happiness, and he hated it when she was sad.**

"**H-Harry?" she whispered gently, slowly opening her eyes, and the young man's heart broke even further at the sound of her voice. She had sounded terrified, and he had a gut feeling as though he had been the whole doing of her fear. How could he be, though? It's not as though she though of him like that, hurting her when all he would ever think of doing (even now) was kiss her pain away.**

**Almost surprising him, her arms had tightly wrapped about his body, sobs reaching his ears now, and he wondered if waking her had been the right thing to do. "Shh… Shh… It's alright. I'm here."**

**She nodded gently as she cried to her heart's content, although she refrained herself from saying anything more, but it HAD seemed as though she had wanted him to promise her something, as she had always had him do when she had a nightmare. It usually was 'I'll be more careful' or 'You know I wouldn't do that' or… well, the list went on. He just didn't want to name all of the things he had agreed to.**

And he still hadn't gotten an answer for what she had been so afraid of back then, to only cry into his shoulder and embrace and say absolute nothing. She'd avoid the question, or say right to him that she felt uncomfortable telling him. That alone had always gotten him off of the subject and onto ones that she would answer to- like what she had read lately or what had happened with her.

All he knew was that he missed wrapping his arms around her like a friend would, without cursing his body's reactions to her touches or holding on longer than he should. At least then it wouldn't have been so complicated.

But, then again, he liked the complications that were there. He liked how his chest warmed when she looked at him and smiled. He liked how butterflies would erupt from the pit of his stomach when she'd say his name. He just loved everything there was about her and all the things she made him do and feel. If she didn't make him feel all of these things, than he'd be an empty man without a clue on how love feels or have any hope of finding it.

_Tell me that you wake up crying_

_And you're not sure exactly why_

_Tell me that something is missing_

_In your life, in your life baby_

Harry wanted to just admit to her all the feelings in his heart, that he could take her into his arms and kiss her like no other. But he couldn't. His courage wasn't as strong as people thought it should've been, considering who he was, since it had been spent fighting in the war. He couldn't drop his best mate facade for the world, but he wanted to.

He wanted to tell her that she was all that he had ever wanted in a woman, and that he was madly and deeply in love with her. It was impossible, but it was still a wishful ideal that he wished to have done.

And he wanted her to feel the same for him. Yet another stupid ideal that he knew wouldn't ever be reciprocated. No matter how long he'd want to hear those words come from her lips, they wouldn't ever be spoken, so he didn't want to break his own heart by taking the step towards something they most certainly couldn't be.

She… loved Ron…

And she couldn't ever love Harry Potter, the Man-Who-Lived. Not as much as he would always love her.

_Tell me that you live for love_

_That forever is never enough_

_That you've waited all your life to see_

_That you want so badly to believe_

_Tell me that it's not just me_

Hermione listened as he steadily breathed, although she wouldn't dare open her eyes and let him know that she was wide awake and simply using him as a cushion for the nightmares (or VERY pleasant dreams) that were to come. But it wasn't as though she'd tell him that either, since she'd die of embarrassment for either one of them- one because they were about him dying endlessly, and she couldn't do a thing while Voldemort and his followers cursed him into his own destruction.

And the other… well… that seemed to be more than obvious… especially since her other best mate walked in from one while he was supposed to be in the grave.

But her memories repeated of this one memory she just couldn't ever forget, no matter how hard she'd try to. It was just something that wasn't meant to be, she supposed, and it wasn't in her to fight with her soul anymore.

**She had found herself out under the shade of the great oak tree that stood beside the magnificent lake- although it didn't seem all too wonderful while the skies above poured out the tears she only wished she could shed. Still, despite the fact that she had taken cover underneath the tree, she had been soaked to the bone, her uniform sticking to her like elastic did to whatever it was wrapped about.**

**But… it was beautiful, but not the sort of beautiful where you ooh and ah over it's innocent state, glistening in the mid-afternoon sun. Its beauty came from the tragedy its look upheld, the mask of rain hiding everything about the landscape except the lake before her now. Its beauty came from the fact that it reminded her of a boy she could not have, that she wouldn't ever have in her arms, loving her like she loved him.**

**As the rain lessened, her view of the world surrounding her opened to a wider expanse, showing the form of a man with a smile upon his face. His raven hair glistened in the rain, and his skin looked as though he should be an appetizer in some sort of restaurant- the kinky sort of ones, mind you, although she'd never admit to anyone that she had thought that. Especially about a young man who she was watching while she hid beneath the branches of an old magical tree, having no clue if she knew him or not.**

**His head was tilted upwards, as though he was looking to the sky- but his eyes were closed so that was _surely_ out of the question. Still, her heart couldn't help but pound excitedly within her chest at the sight of him, dripping with the water the rain poured upon them both.**

**Then… his eyes opened, gazing into the pouring heavens above them, showing to her the emerald pools she so very much liked, although never admitted to such a strange fascination. They didn't keep their intended course for long though, and, as if he had felt her gaze upon him, turned his eyes to look straight to her, watching her watch him.**

**And a smile came to his handsome features, causing a rushing heat to come to her cheeks.**

**She shyly smiled back, forcing down the words that dared to barge out from her lips, into the world where her confidence rested only in battle and not in relationships.**

**Standing, the young woman with chestnut hair plastered to her lovely face ran towards the boy, grinning like a fool even though she knew her precious books were possibly getting wet. Hermione dropped her book bag, running into his strong arms as soon as she was able to. She started to laugh as he caught her, seemingly hitting him with full force. Words begun to spew from her lips, no matter how hard she had tried to hold them back from his ears.**

"**I missed you, Harry! I can't believe you're finally here! I know it's just Hogwarts and all, but-"**

**The boy put his fingers to her lips, stopping her sentence, chuckling as he did so. He seemed so at ease, and her heart pounded within her breast. So far, as she watched him give her that sheepish smile, holding her gently even though Mrs. Weasley (if their dear friend wrote to her about it) or some professor would be after them because they didn't come in immediately, since it is raining. "Let's get inside, 'Mione." His sheepish grin grew ever so slightly, and she felt herself bite down on the inside of her bottom lip so not to drool over it. "No need to get hypothermia just because you wanted to see me come back."**

"**But-"**

"**No buts." He smirked at her, pulling her close to him, not caring if she tried to pull from his embrace- which, of course, she didn't. "No more talk. Just… Just let me hold you, alright?" She nodded, snuggling into his embrace as the rain began to lighten up to a gentle sprinkle. "It's just that-"**

**This time, Hermione silenced the young man, smiling at him with care. "I don't need to be told what happened, Harry, because it's between you and _him_," she told him, wrapping her arms about his waist the best she could. They both knew who she meant by the phrase- Sirius Black had fallen into the veil, and Hermione Granger, the girl he had been friends with since he ever had friends, had nearly joined him in the ranks of the dead.**

**It was more than obvious to her that he felt sorry for risking her life, for nearly killing her because of his failure. Although Pomfry had just released him by now, he'd always apologized previously to this moment, whether verbally or with his eyesight alone, whenever she entered the infirmary.**

**And, as the rain subsided, the two held one another- one for assurance, and the other just to hold on.**

She had felt so stupid for bringing up his godfather at the time, but she knew, and he knew, that he had needed to hear that someone cared. Hermione knew that he just needed someone that wouldn't make him talk about it, but still would hold him without talking. And she was glad to be just that for him, holding on to a moment in time that couldn't ever be relieved.

The young woman with chestnut colored hair knew that he'd forever be hurting for his losses, but she just had to be there for him- through rain, sleet, and shine. She had to be his mail truck, sending him merely words of encouragement and care, and to hold on when he needed it the most.

_I could have sworn I saw you smile at me_

_Standing in the pouring rain_

_At a loss for words and running out of time_

_I said this crazy thing (crazy thing), I said_

'I never want to let go', she thought to herself as she moved in closer to him, wrapping her arms tighter around him. The young woman snuggled in, knowing that he wasn't asleep at the moment, knowing that he supposed she was. For a fraction of a second, she thought that she had heard his heart quicken within his body, which was very close to her's at the moment. But, as soon as it was there, it was gone, and her hope for a returned love seemed lost to her. Harry wouldn't ever look at her again as someone other than a friend who needed a helping hand, who needed help after a mutual friend had met his end. The emerald eyed god that she held onto right at that moment would never see her, a mere mortal breathing in and out as calmly as possible while in his presence, as anything but what she had become to him as a child- his friend.

And it hurt to know that. Her pain and pleasure radiated from the exact same person, whether he knew of it or not.

She just wished that, for once, he could see her as a girl, and not the trademark smile he gave to only his closest best mate- who just happened to have breasts and a high pitched voice, instead of the masculine ideal that muscles were what would make you wonderful to a woman's eye.

Although, personally, she couldn't admit to ever complaining during their hugs, or that night he held her, dressed only in pajama bottoms…

_Tell me that you live for love_

_That forever is never enough_

_That you've waited all your life to see_

_That you want so badly to believe_

_Tell me that it's not just me_

"You're awake", he whispered softly, so not to wake her just in case his thoughts and feelings had been wrong. Not that he'd admit to ever whispering his knowledge (or ideas) to her at this moment, let alone any other one. Maybe… just maybe… he would tell her of his thoughts and feelings, of his heartache and internal warmness when there wasn't any reason to worry about rejection, about being without her ever again.

Maybe.

But, then again, maybe not.

He felt her freeze within his arms, a certain way to tell that she was- in fact- awake right at this moment. The emerald eyed young man could feel the fleeting yet wondering question, asking him why she hadn't said something to him about their closeness. _'What if she likes you?'_ his heart would ask him with excitement, but his mind would shoot down that idea immediately, barely allowing it a moment's breath. _'What if she just did it because she didn't want to wake you up?' _ The questions were there, and they weren't the sort to ever go away to tell the truth, but… for now, he'd ignore them. Why not? It was easier to pretend to never have loved her than to tell the truth, to say those three little words that could kill a man with only a few more.

Her answer would be _"I'm sorry"_, but he just didn't want to hear it. Not now, when his heart was so weak after the war and losing his best mate. Not now, when he was still a boy trapped in a man's body. Not now, while he was still healing, while he was recuperating in his own sort of way.

Just… not now. And, hopefully, not ever.

"You are too." Her words seemed a tick or so too late, although he barely noticed it with as much of a thought that maybe she could have been panicking because he knew her so well. Harry assumed that it was mainly because she had been asleep earlier, and that she had shaken herself awake only moments before. With a smile on her lips, although she did her best to hide it, she began to think of what to thank the Powers-That-Be for. Sometimes, she thanked God for her friend's thick head, and that he wasn't as in tune with a woman's emotions as she would've liked him to be at times.

Although there were those other times when she was just so frustrated that he didn't know of the signs she was giving out like no other… But now just wasn't one of those times. It was the one where she was glad for his informative ways, and that he just accepted her sometimes awkward behavior like it was nothing.

"What's wrong? Thinking, or… can't sleep?" His words had surprised her, considering the fact that he never took to asking her that sort of question. It was like it had been a forbidden line that they hadn't dared to cross before, yet… here he was, asking her the forbidden question as though it was nothing at all. Why did he have to be interested in her thoughts now, when all they consisted of was him?

With a sigh, she answered him, but it was only because she just didn't know what else to do about it. She had to answer him, or else he would grow concerned and protective of her, thus not allowing her to go back to her musings. "Just thinking, Harry." _About you…_ "Go back to sleep. It's no problem."

He seemed all the more hesitant to question her about it some more, but he knew that tone of voice more than he knew his own. No matter how worried he'd be of her, she'd never answer him with the one he wanted- so why try if all he was going to get was a goose-chase? The fact is, there just wasn't any good why around her stubborn-mindedness, and so he just wouldn't try. "Alright, Hermione. You win. I'll go back to sleep, just because you said to."

'_No battle. No World War III, like Ronald would've done.'_ She smiled thoughtfully at his words, snuggling into his embrace as he began to drift off into dream world once again. She was the happiest in his embrace, and he was thankful for it. _'That's why I love you. You're willing to give me space and time to open up, and you don't try to force anything out of me- if you know I won't tell you, but still…'_ Once more, she sighed, although, this time, there was happiness embedded within every molecule of oxygen. And it was because of him.

He was the one she loved, and the only one she ever could love.

_Hold me now and tell me that you do believe_

_In a soul, a soul mate_

_And tell me, and tell me, tell me_

Harry wrapped his arms protectively about her waist, his arms her reassurance that she would wake up to see another day. She was the one who gave him that same hope, the faith and knowledge that there would be another day on the horizon. This cinnamon eyed woman was the one who encouraged him to believe that there was a life beyond Voldemort, and that he could live past everything.

Now, all he had to do was make sure she understood the same. He wanted to be her pillar of strength so bad, and he hoped that she trusted her body and soul to him every night they laid in each other's arms like lovers even though they were just friends (although he did like the first thought very much…). This incredible woman needed to know that there was a life beyond Ron's death.

She needed to know that he was there for her, even when no one else was. Hermione Jane Granger, the beautiful yet conservative woman he had known for years, needed to know that he was her life after the death of their friend. That was all there was to it, although he had no idea that there was another side to this…

And Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and the Man-Who-Defeated, the one who held her in nights that she felt like she could die from, needed to know that she was his life after Voldemort.

_Tell me that you live for love_

_That forever is never enough_

_That you've waited all your life to see_

_That you want so badly to believe_

_Tell me that it's not just me_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_orokid_: _Heh heh… yeah… it might seem JUUUUUUUST a bit bad, since I kind of ended the chapter on an awkward note there. But… eh, if you don't like it, click the blue-gray button in the corner and tell me about it. I'd love to know about what you guys have to say, and I will pay close attention to your criticisms. Thanks._

_But… really! Please Review for me. ((Puppy eyes, and whimpers sadly))_


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